Lackluster Radiance
by addicted2coffee
Summary: One night Cuddy reaches her breaking point and finally finds comfort and relief in House. 'There had always been a pulsating racing tension between them, a live wire full of fire.' One shot huddy lovin! Read and review please!


**A/N**: So, this is my first House fic- eek! I'm really hoping I pulled it off ok, though it may be a tiny bit OOC- but I tried really hard to avoid that. I would actually like to dedicate this to sinister scribe whose madly brilliant writing inspired me to try some huddy work of my own (if you haven't read her work, look into that!) because seriously, the world cannot have too much Huddy lovin'! I'd really appreciate some reviews on this since I'm really unsure on how it turned out. Oh well, in honor of smut tuesday, bon appetite!**  
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**Lackluster Radiance **

She sits in the dimmed confines of her office on yet another late night and stares out into the darkened clinic. A light breeze from the open window allows the fresh scent of the coming rain to grace her office with a calm foreboding. She wonders when she became this empty inside, when the joys of her job stopped being enough to distract her from the hollow ache in her heart. When did arguing with House became the best part of her day? When was the last time she felt truly alive and happy? She'd been sinking into this soft depression for months, slowly letting the clutches of being the Dean of Medicine drag her down. She couldn't let it continue anymore, the feelings were unbearable. So, grabbing her things and hastily flicking off the lights, she left for the one place where she hoped understanding and companionship would ease her troubles.

- - - - -

He's surprised when he answers the timid knock on his door to be face to face with Lisa Cuddy. Her eyes slowly rise from the floor to meet his briefly before he stands aside to let her in. She's not entirely sure why she's here at all. _That's a lie Lisa. You know he's the only one who knows you. You need him. _ Her lost wild eyes and body language are basically begging him in a way words never could to help her, to do something, anything to drag her from the nothingness she's wallowing in. She turns suddenly to face him, aware that she's actually here, in his apartment and the dangerous territory she's entered. Suddenly, she's scared. Scared that she'll upset the fragile balance between them, scared that he can't help her, scared that he won't, scared that he will.

She moves to leave, ready to mumble some sort of excuse and retreat to the lonely confines of her empty bedroom. He senses her distraughtness and confliction and reaches out to grasp both her shoulders firmly fixing her with and entrancingly deep scrutinizing gaze.

They had been fighting more often these past few months. He had sensed the change in her and tried to reignite the spark that usually graced her eyes. He cared about her more than he let show, but deep down, he knew that she knew. She tried to keep up their sparring, but he noticed the lack of heart. He noticed the pressure piling on her shoulders, causing them to slump ever so slightly towards the ground her Prada heel clicked ever so slightly less forcefully against. He'd become aware of her extra cup of coffee at the end of the day, and the subtly less curl her hair held. Now here she was, lackluster curls and all, ready to fall apart as he stared intently into her eyes.

The look. It's always that look. Whenever they get into a particularly nasty shouting match, or have just a little too tender of a moment in the sanctity of her office it's because of that look. Those moments where they teeter a little too close to the edge of reason and almost, _almost,_ give into one another like they've been hopelessly avoiding for fifteen years. And God help them both there's that damn look. There's no one to run interference now, no desk sheltering her or his sarcastic façade to hide safely behind.

His eyes are captivating and fierce; a deep blinding shade of azul that makes her heart race and stop all at once. There's always been something extremely alluring in his gaze, especially when all his full attention is focused on her. There is also a level of understanding present, he _knows_ her and he _gets_ it. She finds herself wanting desperately to close the space between them and feel his lips caress her own. She wants to feel _something_ and she knows they've been dancing around that something for years. The more professional part of her brain is screaming at her to get away but House's voice quietly interrupts.

"You know the feelings are there."

She makes a quick mental calculation of the feelings in their complicated yet oddly comforting relationship to which he could be referring.

Anger. Desire.

Bitterness. Need.

Lust. Loneliness.

Seduction. Understanding.

Trust. Compassion.

Love… Love? Always. That has been the one constant in their never-ending craziness, what holds them together in even the most devastating and hurtful times.

At this thought registers in her mind she's propelled forward into his anxious lips, parting swiftly to allow their tongues to dance feverishly against one another. They're moving towards the bedroom, undressing one another in a frenzied haste, and falling onto the bed together before she can think too thoroughly about what their really, _finally_, doing. She needs the connection, the closeness. She needs to feel something other than powerful and alone, and there he is.

There had always been a pulsating racing tension between them, a livewire full of fire. She always wondered when one of them would finally snap, she never thought it would be her. But here she is, in his bed, on top of him and he's warm and insistent under her skin. Tingling outbreaks in her lower belly as his hand comes up to cup her breast while she kisses the soft skin of his neck repeatedly.

He thrusts into her deliberately and they still for a moment, eyes locking in a tender moment of relief and anticipation. Soon she's moving on top of him, trying to drive away the demons that have been haunting her. The feeling is remarkable. He's firm and large and just oh-so-right, stretching her in a sweetly enticing manner. She wraps herself in the way his hands are gripping her hips strong and possessively, the way his face is screwed up in an adorable mix of pleasure and concentration but can't ignore the way her mind is considerably less cluttered but not quite free.

He's panting now, his eyebrow screwed up in intense concentration, sweat adorning his brow line. He's desperately trying to coax her to orgasm, alternating his thrusts from hard and steady to antagonizingly slow and back again. She cries out because as much as she needs it and wants it, she can't. It's a whirlwind of emotions that surrounds her, choking her, breaking her, pushing her to the edge only to be met with a forceful brick wall. She wants so badly to break free, to trust him completely and gain the release she craves. Everything is clouding her mind, making it ten times more complicated.

She's afraid of giving herself to him completely. She's stressed from work and life and her lack there of. She's tired of being alone, she craves the intimacy and love of a long-lasting, forever relationship. She's terrified of what another one-night go of purely sexual intimacy will do to her with any man, but especially with this man.

He cannot hold on any longer and she knows she's not going to achieve the relief she's frantically clawing for and squeezes her inner muscles around him so he has no choice but to let go without her. He shouts and holds her firmly to him for a long moment before he stills beneath her. When he opens his eyes to look at her, he can see the mixture of emotions plaguing her beautiful face.

Unshed tears are welling in her eyes and she's desperately trying to ignore their stinging presence. Her head hangs in a frustratedly sad motion as her hands flop dejectedly onto his chest. Before she can even register what to do, she's being laid down gently on the mattress and kisses are being peppered feather light against the corners of her eyes where a few unnoticed tears have escaped. Her breathing is slightly labored as she struggles to contain everything and not scream in a frustrated overload. His hand skims tantalizingly warm down her body and lands at her core, dancing deliciously over her clit as she hears him softly at her ear.

"Come on, Lisa. Let go." He tempts her gently as he looms over her off to the side.

"I… can't." She helplessly whimpers as more tears leak down her cheeks.

He alternates between nuzzling her neck and talking in low raspy tones, lacey soft against her ear.

"Just let it all go, you can do it." He lets two fingers plunge inside her to stroke the tender skin. She gasps against his actions as suddenly a different and liberating feeling begins to overtake her. His thumb is still applying pressure to her sensitive nub and then he's talking again, pulling her quickly into stupor of pleasant instead of frustrated feelings.

"Trust me, Lisa." Her hips are rocking involuntarily against his hand now, her mind almost free. She's frantically grasping at his arm with one hand and the sheets beneath her in the other. She's so close, almost, _almost._

"Greg…" A pleading half gasp, half moan comes from her lips _just a little bit more _"…please."

As he increases the pressure and pace every so slightly his return plea is what lets her finally fly off the handle.

"Just let me love you."

Her eyes go wide for a fraction of a second as her inner muscles clench down hard before she squeezes them shut and throws her head back. Her back arches and loud wild moans erupt from her lips from the extreme pleasure. He continues gentle ministrations as she convulses intensely around his fingers. His mouth descends on her, swallowing her cries, extracting everything from within her as if drawing out the poison that's been coursing through her veins.

- - - - -

Lightning flashes, illuminating their spooning forms as the low rumbles of thunder echo around the room. She sighs contentedly and shifts back further against him. His grip tightens around her waist as he kisses her shoulder softly taking note of the radiance gracing her peaceful face. They know it won't be easy by any stretch. It will be loud and messy, filled with howling rage and sweeping gusts of pride and stubbornness that will inevitably rain down. There is an innate beauty to it though, a calming fierceness. They'll wait out the storm together, but for now nothing can squelch her soft smile. She's happy, she's safe, and most importantly, she's loved.

END

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**A/N**- Hit me with some reviews, any constructive feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading! 


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